Black Words
by Hyperpegasi
Summary: Neko!Danny: In a world where body guards are made to order, or custom built, the Manson's expect the best. It's coming time for Sam to choose her own personal guard: Who better than the boy who has been her cat for the past seven years? DxS
1. Irreversible

This is a sort of teaser, I guess. Real chapters will start soon. Um, don't worry if stuff doesn't make sense, it will all eventually be explained.

Oh, yeah. Um. 'M not dead, and updates on my other stories should be along sooner or later.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or any of the characters. I do own the plot and a defective immune system.

* * *

Her head cracked against the pavement, and everything went vague and fuzzy.

"Sam. SAM." She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haziness. Darkly lined luminescent green eyes hovered just above her, haloed by snowy white hair.

"You again?" She growled, struggling to shove him off of her.

Well, that explained her unexpected flight. He leaned back smugly, his arms framing her head like a cage, holding her wrists down like shackles. He settled casually on top of her; his long, lean legs straddling her hips.

"Yes, me. Honestly, Sam. _You're_ the one that brought me on this little excursion. Don't look so surprised to see me."

She grimaced. "I'm surprised because I _thought_ I made my position-" Phantom snorted, his tail flicking in amusement as he gave her a significant look she decided not to read too far into.

She glared at him, and he feigned innocence as only a cat could. "-On _your_ little proposition very clear."

He narrowed his eyes. "You may not get the choice, Sammy. I'm through playing nice."

Indignantly, she opened her mouth to reproach the use of the hated nickname when outside noise came filtering back in.

Screams. The sound of some kind of weapon firing - and finding it's mark. The sounds grew in magnitude until the auditory melee surrounded her. He'd somehow been shielding them from the noise before, but _now…_People were dying. Whatever had been aiming for her when Phantom first pushed her down had gone on a rampage.

She jerked against the suddenly menacing grasp of the person whom she'd long been deceived into holding closest.

"Let me go!" She struggled harder, suddenly bordering on hysteria. "People are _dying!_ Can't you hear what's happening to them?"

His gaze was cold. "I hear it better than you, Sam." His white cat ears laid back against his skull for emphasis. Pissy feline.

She heaved and jerked with all her strength. "Then why aren't you _DOING _anything? How can you just let that happen?" She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood. Her unfocused eyes burned with tears as the screams seemed to grow louder, tearing down all shreds of self-control.

"Let me _GO_! I have to do something… ANYTHING!"

His eyes burned with intensity as he glared down at her.

"What can you do, Sam? Hm? You're just a human. You don't have any special powers. You don't even have your own _guard."_

He lowered his face till his velvet lips brushed her ear as he whispered, "But that could all change, Sam. You **know **what you have to do."

Her lips trembled with the harshness of her breathing, but she said nothing. It seemed so hard to speak with the sound of their screams pounding inside her skull.

_**"SAM." **_Phantom snarled into her ear. The sharp command in his voice cut through everything: it cleared it's way down to her very core, lodging inside her soul and carving itself a place. _**"You know what you have to do, Sammy. SAY IT!"**_

"Fine!" She sobbed. Anything. _Anything_ to stop the screams.

Phantom shifted, pressing even closer to her as his green eyes flashed, and his lips curled into a wicked smile against the shell of her ear. _**"Tell me what you want."**_

Sam clenched her violet orbs shut, trying to block out the gloating expression of her captor - and savior - as he lifted his face back to hers. "I-i want... you... to Seal the pact..." _'But that's NOT what I want! I don't want to do this. Please. _Please _don't__ make me do this!'_ Her mind cried. But the words spilled out, as hard as she tried to force them back.

_**"You'll have to be more specific," **_Phantom prodded, his voice laced with ill-contained excitement.

**"I want you to be mine. To serve me loyally and faithfully above all others; to guard my interests and well-being with your life; all for as long as I should require you to do so." **Bitterly, she recited the hated contract from memory: the practiced words forced from her mouth as fast they would go without slurring. Her jaw locked as the last syllable left her lips, tear-burned amethyst eyes glaring defiantly at the sky as she avoided looking at Phantom.

But she saw, out of the corner of her eyes. His poison green eyes _glowed._

"_One _more thing," he proclaimed in a gentler tone. Her eyes snapped angrily to his. She'd said the damn words! What more did he-

"Just to Seal the deal," he informed lightly, with far too much energy to strictly business.

But it was the only warning he gave before his mouth closed gently over hers.

Sam's eyes widened in shock. Her lips parted in a gasp that he swallowed away, and he took the opportunity to dart his tongue into her mouth for a split second.

She tasted the coppery tang of her own blood, mingled with the taste of something foreign and _other. _Dimly, she decided it must be **his **taste: light and elusive, with a hint of the tofu she'd given him that morning.

It only lasted for a second: Phantom pulled away before she could recover her temper and bite him - or something equally terrible - but even as he did, she could feel that something had changed.

Her head was throbbing painfully, and she was too frozen in her haze to react as he lifted her left hand to his mouth. He placed a gentle kiss on her palm, and it _seared _into her skin like a brand.

"What is it you desire... _Master?" _The weight behind his words went unnoticed.

Her entire frame shook with the force of her sobs, and she wrenched her abused hand from his grip to clutch it to her chest as her eyes squeezed shut. "J-just make the screaming stop," she begged resignedly, turning her face to the pavement.

She didn't see his expression soften, turn so much gentler as he placed a tender kiss on her temple.

"As you wish."

* * *

Things will make sense after this gets rolling. Reviews encourage good things!


	2. Prologue

So, I vaguely recall saying something about providing actual chapters. I have no doubt that this does not qualify and I'll probably be pelted with rancid vegetables for this, because: While it **does** explain a lot of lovely things that were very much left unclear, it also opens the door for a whole slew of new questions. Buuuuuuuuuuut, it had to be done, and actual chapters really will be forthcoming after this, I promise!

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or any of the characters. I do own the plot and a defective immune system.

* * *

The night he met Sam, he had been curled into a fuzzy white ball inside an overturned garbage bin, rain-soaked and miserable. The same storm that had caught him raged overhead, darkening the murky evening further.

He'd been used. Betrayed. The man he had trusted as a father - the man who had _claimed _to love him - had been experimenting on him. Changing him. He wasn't human; not anymore. And the bastard had had the **gall **to _gloat!_ Called him a "_marvelous creation_": the "_product of genius_".

Danny was cold, wet... and a cat. Vlad had almost gotten what he wanted; the changes he had wrought had almost made Danny give in. But somehow, this small, feline body had enveloped him._ "Just a glitch in the programming,"_ Vlad had mused quietly. _"Most likely the stress of rejecting a contract. A useful defense mechanism, I suppose."_ The scientist was oddly chatty with a hole in his stomach. He'd been smiling, like it was a pleasant conversation about the weather.

Danny wished the memory of that smile would vanish. He wished _all _of the memories would. He wished he could go back in time, to before Vlad, to when he was human... to when he had a family.

Because he _had_ had a family, once. He didn't remember them - he remembered almost nothing before Vlad - and he wasn't the same Danny who had been **taken** from them: their Danny had been blue-eyed with black hair. Vlad's creation was a white haired ... _creature_ with neon green eyes. And that was so even before the feline genetics.

... But if he could find them, surely he'd know them. Maybe they would still accept him? If he could change back, even. But he had no idea how. He was panicked and tiny, with no clue where he was, and no memories to guide him. He'd fled Vlad's lab blindly: he didn't think he could find his way back if he wanted to. Not that the man would be much help now; being dead and all.

Shaking with hopelessness and cold, he gave a morose little mewl, curling tighter. He was nothing more than a broken Shield, twisted and without a purpose.

That was when she appeared. Holding her little purple umbrella and flanked by two Shields (neither of them bonded to her; he didn't know how or why, but he could tell), she knelt next to his tin shelter and eyed him with concerned curiosity.

"You're all wet, Mr. Kitty," she pointed out sadly, outstretching her palm slowly and looking worried.

Terrified, he uncurled and flinched away, almost thinking to bristle and hiss. She seemed to expect it, though, and made no sudden movements or noises.

"I won't hurt you," she assured soothingly. "I heard you crying. It's miserable out here, why don't you come home with me?" He was sorely tempted. Time had skewed, and it had been so long since he had had a place to sincerely name as home. The lab, the mansion, they had been nothing more than a prison: even before the horrid realization that Vlad was changing him, that little fact had not escaped his attention. "...You look lost." Her voice - pitched so quiet that the Shields behind her wouldn't even have heard it from their position - was understanding and gentle: and so much more human and real than anything he'd heard in the three years of his life that he remembered.

One of her escort rumbled something that he couldn't make out over the rain, and she turned, amethyst eyes flashing in tune with the lightning overhead.

"I don't care if they throw a fit, I won't just leave a harmless little kitten to die in the rain!"

He wasn't harmless. Danny knew beyond a doubt that that word had ceased to apply to him when he killed his creator. But something about her was comforting; had he known the word (he had forgotten so many of them since his transformation: it terrified him to think that his humanity might be abandoning him the longer he stayed in this form), he might have referred to the feeling as nostalgia. Familiarity.

That was enough to propel him from his shelter and into her arms, albeit warily. Crooning words of comfort, she opened the collar of her jacket and tucked him away from the frigid wetness of the air, cradling him with one hand and stroking away his fears as she stood and resumed walking, presumably in the direction of 'home'. She managed to hold him securely with one hand and an elbow - mindful not to drop the umbrella - ignoring entirely the wet spot he created as her shirt absorbed the rain water from his bedraggled fur.

He was lulled to sleep by the warmth and steady thrum of her heart.

It was too late for him to regain his innocence, but the night he met Sam, she saved his life, his mind, and his humanity - what there was left of each to salvage, anyway.

He promised to himself that one day he'd return the favor. No matter what.

* * *

"Phantom," Sam decided proudly, setting him on her pillow and flopping down after him on the black and purple sheet. After making herself comfortable, she absently began to pet him, stroking his ears with quiet finesse. "It suits you. Whattuya think?" She was pleased to feel the slight rumble of a purr in response. The ten year old grinned, laying her head down on her mattress and watching her new companion with affection, scratching gently on the underside of his chin. "Phantom it is, then."

Phantom. He warmed himself to it, loving it solely because it was from her.

* * *

Sam Manson was the daughter of Jeremy and Pamela Manson - the millionaire couple who had pioneered the Shields: an engineered race of bodyguards. A biotechnological wonder, they were a trend too good to pass up, until the craze had swept the country. Seldom a home was without them.

To avoid confusion, even generic models had unique appearances, with features that could be adjusted to taste. On the surface, it was impossible to tell them apart from the human populace. Personalities worked much the same.

There was no fear of betrayal or uprising. Shields, once bound to contract, would defend their Master to death.

Sometime after the death of renowned scientist Vlad Masters over a decade later, new research came into light; Shields, enhanced with animal traits and properties. Using his work, an exotic line of zuoShields hit the market under the Manson brand name.

After displeasure expressed by the masses, contracts became reversible in newer models. Upgrades became available.

Sam deplored the entire practice. Thirteen years old and heir to the company, she refused to select a Shield of her own. This was one of the many issues on which she and her 'esteemed' parents most distinctly did not see eye to eye.

* * *

"Sammykins... _**Pick. One.**_" Pamela Manson ordered through clenched teeth behind an embarrassed smile.

The youth in question scowled, crossing slender arms over her slim chest. "You can't make me. The practice of Shields is sick and inhuma-"

"Sa**_mantha_**," the older Manson hissed, decorum cracking.

Scowl deepening on lavender tinted lips, Sam bit back the remainder of her spiel and glared defiantly at her female parental unit. Already it was obvious - at least, from his vantage in the rafters - which Manson was going to win this battle. Pamela wouldn't make any more of a scene in front of an employee. Sam would get hell for it later, but at the moment she was once again the victor in the Manson battle of wills.

A satisfied purr rumbled in his chest. His girl was _good._

* * *

When Sam was fourteen, the Mansons invested in the brightest Shield technician of the time: Tucker Foley.

...To say that the two _clashed_ would be like saying a hurricane is a _bit_ windy.

* * *

"You realize that starvation is a horrible way to die, right?" The new techy asked with wide eyes, surveying her lunch in horro as he slid into a seat across from her.

Expression calculated, she inquired with false concern if he realized that undercooked meat carried some truly awful diseases and that be eating it in such profuse amounts he was undoubtedly shortening his lifespan by 20 years at the least.

A truly awe-inspiring food fight took place not long after.

It was a month later that the two became friends, despite their differences.

It was a month after **that** that Phantom finally cleaned the last of the tofu from his fur. The things he went through for his Sam...

* * *

By sixteen, Sam had lost count. It was in the hundreds, she was sure.

* * *

"I won't. I don't care, whatever! Scream at me, ground me... DISOWN me, for all I care! I _won't_ do it, and you **can't** make me!" Her door slammed, and she stormed to the bed, twisting the volume control on her stereo until their indignant calls were drowned out and she could curl up and cry quietly under the comfortable throb of her music with none the wiser.

They argued about a lot of things, Sam and her parents, but never as fiercely as over the topic of Shields.

He was always there for her when she cried. It occurred to him, on nights like that one, how little he could really do for his girl, his Sam.

That was probably why, eventually, the inevitable happened.


	3. I live!

It's been over a year? D': Oops! I got sincerely distracted trying to get through my last year of highschool and making ends meet to get into college. I owe everyone a big big apology and I swear I'm going to try and get some updates up soon!


	4. Well this is new

**I owe you guys one hell of an apology because I have majorly slacked off. I promised myself when I started writing that I would absolutely NEVER be one of those authors who just vanished and stopped updating because as a reader there is nothing worse than that, but I did. I hadn't even realized how long it's been since I got something done and I am so, so sorry. **

**Almost forgot: I don't own Danny Phantom**

* * *

"Phantom, here kittykitty..." Sam called softly, searching high and low through her expansive bedroom. The feline was nowhere to be found, however, which struck her as really and truly odd. He was never one to keep her searching if he was within earshot. This brooked the question all over again; where could he be?

Hands planted on her hips, she frowned at the mess she had made digging through her closet for the gift box she'd hidden earlier in the year. It was small, wrapped in cheerfully gothic shades like dark purple and black, with a fluorescent green ribbon perched carefully at the top. She'd spent a very long time finding exactly the right gift for him this year and he couldn't even bother to make an appearance before breakfast?

... Maybe she ought to clean up and see if he was under the mess somewhere? No, surely he was smart enough to get out of the way when things came cascading down from the upper reaches of this Manson's closet, after six years...

"Phantom, really! This is getting ridiculous." Sam got to cleaning, just in case. Item after item was returned to its roost until only the little gift box remained, and still no sign of her cat. With a sigh, she resigned herself to the fact that he'd come around when he felt like it, and she'd just have to wait to give him his gift until then. Just in case, she she tucked the box into her pocket and headed down to get something for breakfast, and maybe ask around if anyone had seen the aptly named kitty.

* * *

In the rafters above her, green eyes followed her every motion with wistfulness. He -wanted- to go to her, rub against her ankle perhaps and give a little mau to tell her he heard. But not this morning. He couldn't, not like this. It was more than frustrating to have to sit and ignore the voice he cherished most for more than an hour while she searched, but it had to be done. Sam couldn't see him like this. Especially because he wasn't really sure what 'this' was. Frankly, he was afraid.

It had been a long time since he'd had hands, of course. The digits were awkward to him now though, and that the least of his worries. All he had left of the form he'd retained for six long years were his ears and tail. Perhaps his eyes, as well, but he couldn't see them to check. He blew a strand of snowy hair away from his face and sulked. No, Sam certainly couldn't see him like this. She wouldn't recognize him, and she might not even love him anymore. For that reason, he decided, he would just stay up here until he changed back. That was the only reasonable thing to do.

Although, he mused, maybe it was a good thing he'd changed. In truth, he'd almost forgotten that he _began _this way. He was a boy, not a cat... This was the way he was supposed to be. Not human, though. He hadn't been human for a very long time. Even now, there was no mistaking him for a human; he was as Vlad created him to be.

Phantom was a Shield.

* * *

"Morning Sam!" Tucker hummed brightly over a heaping plate. She muttered something absent in response, rejecting the cook's offer of various breakfast foods in favor of a simple apple. She sat down with it, but didn't eat. Her lip was between her teeth as she rolled the fruit back and forth.

"Something wrong?" Her techie friend asked, good mood replaced with curious concern. "You were all excited last night to give him that present... did he not like it or something?"

"No, I just haven't been able to find him. He's been missing all morning," she replied idly, musing over where Phantom could possibly be. "It isn't like him to vanish and not come back, but maybe he's just being a cat. It isn't uncommon for regular cats to wander off..."

"Phantom's not the average cat." Tucker chuckled, but waved a forkfull of bacon. "Maybe he had to use the litterbox or something. I'm sure he'll be around."

Sam had to laugh a little at that. "Sure, Tucker." It wasn't an outlandish possibility, so in the end she let Tucker distract her and even got a decent breakfast, bracing herself for the inevitable argument with her parents. They had another bunch of Shields they were just dying to shove down her throat.

She stretched as she stood, cracking her knuckles and glancing around for her pet out of habit. _'Really, where could he have run off too?' _

* * *

The longer he sat changed, the more the young man came back to himself. Memories of life before Sam surged through him with renewed force, and more than once Phantom found himself locked in a waking nightmare of the laboratory where his once humanity was stripped and remade into something that Sam despised the very practice of. Ears flattened to his skull and tail thrashing, he tried desperately to replace those memories with ones from even further back... but those were lost to him still. From birth to his the middle of his seventh year, all gone. He'd spent something like three and a half years with Vlad; he didn't know how many exactly. But he was sure that he and Sam were near the same age. Vlad had never celebrated his birthdays, but Phantom had seen his own file not many days before That one. He'd been ten, give or take, according to that record. It made enough sense for the day Sam found him to be his new marker to count by.

It was six years exactly to date, in fact. That was why Sam had bought him the gift. She often gave him presents, but this one she had wrapped with care and hidden away. He knew it was a collar, despite all her efforts to keep it a secret from him. It was meant to be a 'surprise', but he was far too curious not to have snuck a peek before she wrapped it. All recycled materials and custom made, it really was a pretty thing. He particularly liked the little silver bell she'd meticulously attached to it.

He mourned that surely in this state it would be too small for him to wear, unless it had some really fantastic adjusting abilities. Phantom loved everything that Sam got for him. He loved _Sam._

It was this train of thought that sparked his epiphany. Since the very day that she brought him home he'd longed to be able to repay the debt to her. His life, his mind; he owed everything he had to her, and he'd finally found the perfect way to make his recompense!

Sam's parents wouldn't leave her alone until she chose a Shield. There was no way she'd do that under normal circumstances and it had been a constant source of upset for the girl for longer than he'd even known her. Despite her attitude of nonchalance about her rocky relationship with her parents, he knew she wanted a reprieve from all the arguing. They were her parents, after all. No child **wants** to be constantly defending themself from attacks by a parental unit.

So he would become her Shield. It was perfect! He'd still be always by her side, but now he could really protect her! He grinned, green eyes glowing as his pulse thrummed. She wouldn't like the idea, knowing her, but he could be just as stubborn. Anything it took to make her happy again.

* * *

**A.N. : And of course this makes sense in his head, but let's not forget that he's not the same boy he was before Vlad twisted his nature. Hmmm... I wonder how this could turn out?**


End file.
